


Origin

by ammonite



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:28:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29562606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ammonite/pseuds/ammonite
Summary: Eight years after Kira's death, children begin to vanish in Tokyo's streets. Near, who has taken over L's legacy, asks Mello and Matt, now a high-end con man and a cybersecurity hacker, to help him with the case.
Relationships: Matt | Mail Jeevas & Mello | Mihael Keehl, Mello | Mihael Keehl/Near | Nate River
Kudos: 10





	Origin

_Berlin – Kreuzberg neighborhood – April 16 th, 2021 – 1.52 a.m_

Matt closed his eyes against the sparkling strobe lights. As the tiny cap he’d swallowed half an hour earlier kicked through his nervous system, he felt his limbs lighten up at last. The low repetitive beat was slowing down around him. He started moving his body, slowly, languidly, until he reached it – the perfect rhythm. Matt wasn’t following the music anymore; the music rolled out _from_ him. He was the one guiding it, letting it drift from his fluttering fingers to the concrete basement they were cramped in.

He opened his eyes again. Trough dilatated pupils he could see flashes of harsh white light and under them, in slow motion, a crowd of dancing, sweating bodies.

The beat was speeding up. Matt turned around, moved faster, caught it again. His body felt weightless now, almost digital.

_So fucking good_

Synth sounds blasted on. He felt them vibrate through his hips, his legs, his feet. Only on his left side, though. That was new. Matt, still dancing, realized belatedly that it was not, in fact, a side effect of the drug, but his phone that was vibrating inside his front pocket.

Instead of picking it up, he looked around to find Mello. It should have been difficult to spot him in the sea of young, blasted flesh that gathered there every week to forget how dull living was, but Mello had never wished to be unnoticed. Matt squinted at the crowd. His phone kept vibrating. He was about to reach for it when, just as white dots of light blended into red, he found him.

Mello had kept his long hair loose this time. His dark vinyl pants were shining as he moved along with the music. His chest was bare, except for a black leather harness looped with two gold rings. He wasn’t looking at Matt, and he wasn’t trying to call him either. Which, retrospectively, would have been counterproductive, considering how they were both drowning in electronic noise. Right. The only thing Matt did not like about taking drugs was their tendency to muddle his brain.

Mello caught him staring and grinned. His eyeliner had smeared around his eyes a little, but he still looked like some scarred sun warrior, the bastard.

The vibration had stopped. Must not be important, then. Matt smiled back and dived in.

*

_Tokyo – April 15 th, 2021 – 8.30 a.m _

_Live record from NHK Japan_

“Fear and outrage grow in the Tokyo neighborhood of San’ya, where policemen are faced with another worrying disappearance: two siblings, 9 and 7 years old, are officially reported to be missing. They left school together yesterday afternoon but, according to their mother, never walked back home. It is now the fourth time in less than two months that children have gone missing in the capital. An official search notice has been issued by the national police. If you recognize the two children shown here, or if you hold any information about them, you are requested to call this number as soon as you can –”

*

_Berlin – Kreuzberg neighborhood – April 16 th, 2021 – 6.52 a.m_

“I think it’s starting to come down”, Matt said, forehead resting on his knees.

“No shit. I can almost see serotonin pouring out of you.”

They were sitting outside, behind the club. They’d found a patch of grass that was questionably clean, like most things in Kreuzberg, but it felt more comfortable than concrete. Mello could still hear music pulsating from below.

“Shut up. Roll me a cigarette.”

“Roll it yourself”, Mello shot back, even though he was already reaching for filters in Matt’s backpack. When Matt was coming down from molly, he crashed _hard_. Mello hated those few hours during which his friend, usually so steady, seemed to lose his grip on reality. More than once, he’d gone into a full panic attack that had left them both exhausted. Mello crushed dry tobacco between his fingers. At least cigarettes soothed Matt, helped him go through withdrawal.

He was licking the paper to make it stick when Matt’s phone started ringing.

“Whoever it is can kindly fuck off”, Matt said, his voice muffled.

Mello rolled his eyes at him. The vibration seemed to get louder, or so it seemed to his sleep-deprived brain. He stuck the cigarette between his lips and showed his hand into Matt’s pocket, stealing his lighter as he did.

The encrypted messaging app that Matt had designed a few years ago displayed a single letter on the screen. He stared at it. Lit up the fag, vaguely hoping the phone would go dead in the meantime. And then, because it didn’t, Mello swiped up.

“Near.”

“Mello.” His voice was deeper than he remembered. Near did not sound surprised in the slightest that it was not Matt who had picked up his phone. Mello inhaled to draw more smoke into his lungs than strictly necessary.

“Why are you calling Matt?”

“Would you have answered me?”

_No_

“We’re on holidays.”

“I know. Is spring in Berlin pleasant enough?”

_What the fuck_

“Since you have already tracked us down, you are well aware that Matt is not in Japan nor available”, Mello answered, voice ice-cold. _And neither am I_ was left unsaid.

Silence. He closed his eyes and focused on the bitter taste of tobacco in his mouth.

“There is a new case”, Near said, neutral as ever. “Missing children. You’ve heard about it. Two new ones –”

“I don’t care.”

“We have a pact.”

Mello smashed his half-smoked cigarette in the grass. Anger was already making his way through his guts. They hadn’t spoken in nineteen months and yet it still took Near less than three minutes to rile him up.

“We aren’t at your disposal, Near. We’re not going to come back from the other side of the world just because you ordered us to!”

“I am not ordering.”

“Then what –”

“I am asking for your assistance. I believe this case might be more difficult than anticipated.”

Lost children: of course it would be tough. Part of a global sex trafficking ring, probably. What he didn’t understand is why this was so unusual. Near had tackled cases gloomier than this one, and he had done so alone. Even he watched the news sometimes.

“Mello”. Near was saying his first name again, in fucking _Kreuzberg_ of all places. Hearing it made his fingers twitch, desperate for something to tighten on to. He glanced at Matt who seemed to be falling asleep, arms curled around his knees.

“I won’t go into details now, but your expertise would be quite helpful”. Such a convoluted way of saying that he needed them, Mello reflected.

“We don’t have a choice, do we?”

Near did not bother to answer that. The rising sun was throwing light on Mello’s surroundings, turning dusty brick buildings, steel rails and dirty grass into gold. This city wasn’t exactly pretty, but it had grown on him; he found that he enjoyed its ragged edges. Hell, he would probably miss it.

“Fine. We’ll be there. Don’t call Matt again.” Mello hung up. The Jagër he’d swigged hours earlier was threatening to come back up. Twenty-six years old and already his hold on alcohol was slipping.

“Can’t we solve it remotely?” Matt asked, not looking up. “We could, like, work all day and then get trashed at night. Real corporate.”

“Yeah, sure. Can you imagine Zoom calls with Near? We’d spend our time asking ourselves: is the screen freezing? Or Is it just him not having any facial expression?”

Matt laughed at that; a tired, feverish sound. Mello knew, then, that they’d be gone the next day.

*

_Unknown location - Kanto, Japan – June 2 nd, 2013 – 11.59 a.m _

Right after Kira was killed, rain began to pour down Japan’s land. Heavy charcoal clouds gathered in the sky; the early summer light, usually bright and tender, disappeared altogether. Strong winds morphed into brewing storms that cracked though the sky at dusk. Rivers overflowed their banks, inundating fields and cities alike. **WORST FLOODING IN YEARS** , the newspapers stated, in case there where people who hadn’t noticed yet. One night, forty-seven citizens, mostly elders, drowned inside their houses because they hadn’t fled fast enough.

Of course, Kira’s devoted followers, who had probably heard of the Genesis at least once, took the flood as a divine proof that their God was still alive and thriving, despite what the TV said. They were incredibly stupid, Mello thought. What Kira got off on was the clinical precision of a heart attack. He wouldn’t have orchestrated such muddy deaths.

His leather jacket was drenched and so was his hair. Fat drops of water were sliding down his face, making his burn sting. He waited in front of the steel door, not bothering to look up to the tiny cameras which were recording every second of his wet arrival.

_Whenever you want, N_

The portal finally opened with a discreet screech. Mello glanced at his phone. _12:00_. Obviously.

When he came in the wide sterile room which Near used as an office, Mello found him sitting on the floor, below high windows currently obscured by heavy rain. Near was toying with some pine wood blocks. He hadn’t built anything yet, but Mello knew from years long experience that he could hesitate for hours before deciding on a shape.

_We survived this shitshow and you’re still there, playing with your toys_

It seemed to Mello that Near, although he was now seventeen, would never truly grow up. A Peter Pan doppelganger, really, putting down serial killers in cotton pajamas.

As he moved blocks back and forth, Near raised his voice. “I have something to tell you.”

“I know. Although I can’t imagine why you chose not to say it on the phone. Haven’t you heard? It is raining outside.”

And then Near said, like he’d been invited to some boring afterwork party, “I have been officially asked to inherit L’s title and full prerogatives.”

Mello stared at him, aghast. Near cautiously looked back. Silence stretched between them.

Sharp, white-hot anger was piercing his head, but then, surprisingly enough, it just – faded away. He felt, instead, a great wave of weariness washing over him.

_Oh, I get it now_

And Mello, who prided himself on being unpredictable, started to laugh.

“It was always going to be you, wasn’t it? The tests, the rankings – all of it. Since the beginning. Since the day you arrived at Wammy’s.” He couldn’t stop laughing; he was slightly shaking with it. “It was rigged, right? I never stood a chance.”

“Mello –”

“I knew it. I was only there to create an illusion of competition, to prevent you from slacking off. You –”

“I couldn’t have won against Kira without you”, Near said, his voice as soft as snow. His eyes were once again avoiding Mello’s.

That was unexpected. Mello felt thrown off balance. He had believed Near would be glowing with victory, not underrating himself. What the fuck was he playing at?

“It doesn’t matter, and you know it”, Mello snapped at him. “ _You won_ , Near. You were always winning!” Suddenly, he wanted to be anywhere but in this room. He was already walking towards the door when Near whispered, so low that Mello almost didn’t catch it:

“Would you take L’s role – with me?”

Would I _what_ , Mello thought, and slowly turned back. He felt such shock at Near’s words that it almost wiped out his shame.

“I don’t want your pity”, he automatically said, his brain still reeling. Had Near really been offering to share L’s glory?

“I am not pitying you.” Near was moving blocks faster now, his curls falling down his face as he crouched lower. “We defeated Kira because we worked with each other. We – ( _We_? Mello wondered, his inner voice gone slightly hysterical). We complement one another. You have valuable skills that I do not possess, and –”

“Near.” Mello’s tone was gentle. “We hate each other.”

Near looked up. “I never have.”

Mello looked back at him, stunned. Near’s expression was, as ever, unreadable.

_Would you take L’s place_

_Would you_

_With –_

He was picturing it now, despite his will. Near and him, working overnight to solve life-size puzzles. Tracking down murderers. Handling problems no one else could tackle. Near wasn’t wrong: together, they would move forward so fast – faster than L, perhaps, who had been killed while they were both still alive.

And yet –

Wasn’t it relief that he was feeling, underneath it all?

Mello inhaled deeply. Matt was going to have a field day with this.

“I – no. I don’t want it anymore.” Near was still watching him, brows slightly furrowed. “I – it’s all I’ve done. My whole life. Being your competitor. I was trained to. I never did anything else, and now – now Kira’s dead, half of my face is burnt, and you are the new L. I’m – sick of it, of running after you. Shut up”, he added, because Near had opened his mouth. “From the day you were brought in at Wammy’s, I lost my agency. I don’t resent you for that, you were only five. But I do remember how I was given a purpose. Beat you, become L. There was no alternative.”

Mello paused, exhausted. Near had closed his eyes, which was a relief. He couldn’t have stood his gaze.

“I never had a choice”, he went on. “Until now. And so I – I choose to lose.”

Near was so still he resembled a statue carved from marble. His right hand was clutching a small wood cube. Mello waited for an answer, and when none came, he said, quietly, “Goodbye, Near.”

Outside, the rain had turned into a cold drizzle.

**Author's Note:**

> My job bores me to no end and every nice thing is still closed where I live, so here I am, writing a multi-chaptered story for a mostly dead fandom. I hope you like it.


End file.
